Fashion Thoughts

Here’s a little personal history for you. When I was a kid I didn’t think much about my clothes. I wore mainly hand-me-downs and that was fine. The only time this bothered me was when I had to wear the same pair of bulky black, gray, and blue snow boots for my entire elementary school career. Multiple pairs of these hideous boy boots were handed down to me. All the other girls had pink or purple & white boots. The only consolation was that at least they were moon boots and I could pull them on and off myself. The previous boots had to be worn with plastic bread bags on our feet between the boot and our socks. I don’t know if this was to keep our feet dry or to help the foot get in and out of the boot. Kids who forgot to bring their shoes to school had to wear their snow boots all day. I was careful never to let this happen to me, but to this day, forgetting my shoes is one of my frequent anxiety dreams.

The next fifteen years were followed by more bad fashion because I always hated spending money on clothes, even when it was my parents’. Also, I have always really hated wearing anything even remotely uncomfortable, like a bra. I like to think that I’ve worn a few decent things in the past two years because I’ve finally devoted some time to shopping. What I’m saying is that I’m trying to make up for a life of fashion ignorance or avoidance while I’m learning how to sew. A world has opened to me.

My taste in bad clothes is not completely due to cheapness and ignorance. I really love seeing what rural poor people wear. I love the totally random outfits that have made their way from different cultures, climates, and eras. It gets even better when the clothes are dirty and patched. This look only works in certain environments – places where life mainly occurs outdoors. The dirt never seems as dirty and natural light makes everything beautiful. This is also why I love Survivor. The contestants look fantastic in their dirty outfits with clashing buffs. I’m always sad to see them get all cleaned up when they get booted off the show.

This is what I hate the most in fashion – brand new, cheaply made clothes. If something relies on its newness and cleanliness for its appeal, then I hate it. If something has a good shape, then it will probably still look good even after I get bleach or paint on it. This picture demonstrates my taste very well. This is one of my favorite ensembles. The tank top has a subtle textural variation in the knit that runs down the center. The fabric is ultra soft and the shape is perfect. Even though it became discolored almost immediately after I bought it, I have loved wearing it. (Acne products contain peroxide and have ruined every collar and pillowcase that has come into contact with my face). The shorts are cut-off sweats that once belonged to my dad. They must have been twenty years old before I inherited them, and I’ve worn them since college. Clothes like this are like that beloved nappy stuffed-animal that people save from their childhoods. After than much physical contact they seem to have a bit of their own soul.